


Amalgam

by endless-reboots (sweetcl0ver)



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 10:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19196935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcl0ver/pseuds/endless-reboots
Summary: The Marvel Universe has gotten sodepressinglately. Wade needs a break! He pops over to the DC Universe to say hi to his favorite dysfunctional superhero team, gossip about cute guys with Negative Man, maybe even flirt with that sexy metal hunk/hunk of metal Robotman. And for the last time, he's not copying off of Deathstroke, okay? He'snot. How many movie franchises does Slade Wilson headline? ZERO.





	Amalgam

Larry Trainor was gardening out in front of Doom Manor, peacefully repotting a fern, when he heard the crash.

It was absolutely horrific, like hearing 100 panes of glass being smashed simultaneously, but instead of hearing in his ears he felt it in his _teeth_. The Negative Spirit jolted and shuddered in his chest, like it was reacting to frequencies he couldn’t even perceive. By the time he was able to locate the cause of the turmoil, a red-and-black figure with two swords strapped ostentatiously to his back, Larry was already pissed off at him. 

The man was getting to his feet, looking around, curious body language plenty big enough to make up for the fact that you couldn’t see his eyes or face. Larry couldn’t relate at all. Nope.

“Holy crap, is that Negative Man? Captain Larry Trainor?! Oh my god, dude, big fan over here! Such an honor to meet you in person! Can I shake your hand? Can I have a hug? Kiss on the cheek? Okay, that was too far, I can see you’re not comfortable with that, totally chill. My name’s Wade Wilson!”

As confused as he was by this encounter, Larry felt a ping of recognition at that name. “You’re Deathstroke? The mercenary?”

Maybe-Deathstroke made the equivalent of a full-body eyeroll. “I’m not Slade Wilson, I’m _Wade_ Wilson! _Dead_ pool, not _Death_ stroke! I’m a totally different guy, okay?! I wasn’t copying off of him! Serious!” 

“O...kay? So why are you here? Are you here to fight us?”

“HECK no, I’m a huge fan of you guys!”

“Oh. So do you want to… team-up? With us?”

“I’m really just here to say hi. The Marvel Universe has gotten so fucking depressing lately. I mean, Dark Phoenix? Fucking Endgame? Cancelling all the Netflix series? Ugh, fucking grimdark bullshit! I’m over it! DC has really stepped up their game, though! Aquaman and Shazam were _so_ much fun! And you guys, of course! Big fan, like I said. I’m taking a little unauthorized vacation over here before the man at the typewriter realizes I’m gone, that’s all.”

“The man at the typewriter…?”

“No, you’re right, that’s an outdated version of the metaphor. It’s not a man by now, it’s a team of people of multiple gender identities and expressions. And it’s not a typewriter, it’s whatever assortment of desktops and laptops and tablets and whatever the hell else they’re using to write scripts. But my point stands: they’ve hit a lull in production that’s long enough for me to sneak away for a little bit.” 

“So… you’re just here for an interdimensional social call or…?”

“Hell yeah, bud! We’re totally twinsies! We’ve got so much in common! I mean, we’ve both been horrifically disfigured, we’ve both had to share our bodies with another being, we’re both more-or-less immortal. But most importantly, we’re both male superheroes who are canonically into dudes! You’ve gotta catch me up on the DC scene, man! Your version of Facebook is called Facehole, so I’m kind of terrified of whatever the hell your version of Grindr is called, but I gotta know!” 

“I don’t know how you know about…any of that… but it’s private. I’m not going to talk about it with some costumed freak claiming to be from a different universe.”

“Oh. Okay, I guess that’s fair enough. Who else is around? Do I get to meet Elasti-Girl? Uh, I mean, Elasti-Woman? #ImWithHer”

“Rita’s out.”

“How about Crazy Jane? Or are we just going with Jane these days? I mean, I feel like I can reclaim the term, I’ve had my share of mental _what-not_.”

“She’s gone too. And the Chief. They’re having a day out with his daughter. We were all invited, but those of us whose appearance would… attract attention… chose to stay behind.”

“That’s some shitty timing. Who else is left? Ooh, what about Cyborg?”

“He’s spending some time with his father. They’re shutting down an international crime ring that uses something called… ‘bite-coin,’ I think it was.”

“Oh, yeah. The old bite-coin again. Scary stuff. Glad Cable Jr. and his somehow even more robotic dad are on the case. Wait—wait! Is that fucking Robotman?!”

Larry turned his head—it was hard following someone’s eyeline through a full-face mask—but sure enough, there was Cliff, passing into view through a second-floor window. Larry exhaled so forcefully he was certain some carbon dioxide from the 50’s made it past his lips. He then made a decision that, while it did not physically harm anyone, was nevertheless purely selfish. 

“Sure, that’s Robotman. Would you like to meet him?”

“Hell yeah! Hey, is he single? ‘Cuz I would smash that like a drunk driver through a windshield.”

“Jesus Christ. I can only introduce you if you promise not to say that or anything remotely like that where he can hear you. For _so many reasons_.”

***

“Cliff, we have a visitor. Let me introduce Wade Wilson.”

“Wade Wilson?! That’s fucking _Deathstroke_! What the fuck?!”

“No! That’s _Slade_ Wilson, I’m a different guy! I was a fucking _Avenger_ for a minute in the comics, for Chrissakes! Doesn’t that count for _anything_ in this universe?!”

“Not really, Wade, since we don’t have your Avengers or your Ex-Men here, as I’ve already said.”

“X-Men, Larry. It’s the _X-Men_. I don’t know how I can tell you’re saying it wrong, but you are!”

“ANYWAY. He’s visiting us for somewhere between a few hours to a few days before he has to go back to his own universe, and I’ve already had to talk to him for about 100 years, so now it’s YOUR turn, Cliff. Apparently, he’s really into ‘metal guys,’ so have fun with that.”

“Fuck you, Mummy Dearest, I told you that in confidence!”

Larry slammed Cliff’s bedroom door behind him.

“Hey, don’t mind him. He’s 95 years old; he gets crotchety sometimes.”

“Well, he must be aging in comic-book time. He looks as spry as an exceptionally fit 50-year-old. I’m talkin’ Josh Brolin fit.”

“I know, right? There’s a lot of that around here. I feel like I just blink and another decade’s passed by, but all of us just stay the same.”

“So what are you workin’ on, there? Model cars?”

“Yeah. This is kind of my thing. Used to be a racecar driver, if you can believe that.”

“Sure. Do you need any help?”

“I mean. I don’t wanna put you out, but I could always use someone with halfway-decent fine motor control for some of this stuff.” He held up one of his big, metallic hands. “Robot fingers, you know?”

Wade stared at the aforementioned robot fingers and tried not to actively drool. “Yeah. I think I can help you out.” 

*** 

They worked companionably for a while, Cliff constructing the rough designs for his buildings and cars while Wade did the more delicate work of painting in details and writing signs.

“So what do you do with the cars when they’re all finished? Make them race?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Mostly I put them in places around the town where I think they’d look nice. Tell myself stories about who drove them there, and why. You know, saying it out loud to a total stranger, it sounds kinda pathetic.”

“No way, Cliff. I’m a big proponent of having a rich inner life. If you don’t entertain yourself, who will? So is this town a real place? Could I go visit it and see the… see the uh… the LI8RΛЯY?”

“ROBOT FINGERS. I’m doing my fuckin’ best. And I don’t understand how you just said that with your mouth. But no, it’s kind of a mix of the place I grew up, the place I used to live with my wife and kid, and Cloverton.”

“Cloverton?”

“It’s the closest town. You probably drove through it on your way here.”

“Ah, no, I didn’t exactly drive. I broke through three different fourth-walls and ended up on your front lawn.” 

“I so want to call bullshit on that, but I walked through a magical portal that a drunk British magician drew in the air with a cigarette last year.”

“Never trust a Brit! They’re always villains! Except, wait, weren’t you all Brits in your original comic?”

“No offense, Wade, but I have no goddamn idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sorry, I did it again. I’ll shut up. Or I can leave if you want, you’ve put up with me for longer than most people do.”

“I didn’t mean you should shut up or leave. I like the company. I just don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, I’ll lay off the meta stuff. It’s really just to entertain the audience, there’s almost never a narrative purpose to it and it’s kinda rude to the people I’m talking to. So, sorry again. Do you really not mind me being here? Most people on my world think I’m annoying.”

“Maybe you should just stay here, then. There’s plenty of room for you.”

“That’s so sweet, but it would never work out. I’ve got a solo comic I have to show up for every month, and the X-Force movie is in development! Or it might be a mini-series on Hulu. Oops! Sorry for mentioning them, I know they’re a rival streaming service for you guys.” 

“Um… alright. So, listen. Earlier Larry said you were ‘into metal guys.’ What was he talking about? The hell does that mean?”

“Everyone has a type, right? Everyone has that one weird, cool, gross, gorgeous, bizarre thing that they wake up in the middle of the night sweating over, right? Well, mine is big, strong men made partially or entirely of metal. I can’t help it if you check every single one of my boxes, big guy.”

“How many ‘metal guys’ are there on your world that that became your ‘type’?”

“Oh, more than you might think. There’s Cable, there’s Colossus… there’s Bucky too, but I’m not allowed to talk to him right now. Maybe soon, though! Who knows what’s gonna happen now that Disney owns all our asses!”

“Okay? So why me? What about Vic, doesn’t he check all your boxes too?”

“Oh, Cyborg is a total dream-boat, but I’m trying to keep things more age-appropriate these days. I really don’t want a repeat of the whole Siryn thing, and I’m pretty sure the readers don’t either. But yeah, now that we’re on the subject—zero pressure on you, you don’t have to do anything to me or look at my skin or anything, but I am 100% down for sucking your dick if you’d be into that.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have a dick.”

“Shit, sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I will go to town on whatever situation you’ve got going on down there.”

“There is no situation. Or, like. It’s a Ken-doll situation.”

“Oh, shit, so how do you, like…?”

“I don’t.”

“You just don’t.”

“I just don’t.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Shit, I didn’t even ask if you were into guys before I started propositioning you. You mentioned a wife. You’re probably straight and I’m an idiot. Again. FUCK.”

Cliff thought about it. To be honest, if you’d asked him three decades ago he would have said he was straight without question. But there had been a lot of things he’d believed back then. A lot of things he’d done. They all seemed pretty damn far away. It had been thirty years since he’d even felt like a human being. Thirty years since he’d been intimate with someone else. And now, here was a person who wanted to be close to him. A very weird, admittedly, but sweet guy who was willing to spend an hour painting model cars with a stranger just for the company. A guy who freely admitted his crush on Cliff, but was tripping over himself to downplay it and seemed to expect to be rebuffed. Could he really turn that down? Was there any part of him that wanted to?

Fuck it. Somebody in this house might as well get some for once.

“I dunno… straight, gay, man, woman… it doesn’t seem that important anymore. Honestly, it’s kind of hard to remember why I ever cared about any of that shit. Wade, you seem like a really nice guy and I’d like to give you what you want, but I’m not sure what I can do for you. I mean, I can’t even kiss you.”

It was hard to tell under the mask, but from the tilt of his head and his bashful body language, Cliff thought Wade might be shyly looking up at him through his eyelashes. “But I can kiss _you_. I mean. If that’s something you think you’d want.”

“Yeah, sure. Come over here.” A _clank clank_ echoed through the room as Cliff patted his metal thighs in invitation. Wade almost literally tripped over himself as he scrambled to comply.

Once he was in Cliff’s lap, though, Wade seemed to lose his momentum. “Okay, so there’s one more thing. And it’s okay if it’s a deal-breaker, I’m kind of expecting that. The reason I wear this costume isn’t to hide my identity. It’s so people won’t get freaked out or, I don’t know, _stare_. I’m basically Freddy Krueger under this mask. My skin looks like I got a deep-tissue massage with irradiated sandpaper.”

“Wade, come on. Look at me. Who the fuck am I to judge anyone else on their appearance?”

“Who the fuck are _you_?! You’re Cliff Steele! You’re Robotman. _You_ are a big, strong, shiny, sexy _hunk_ , mister. But okay. You wanna see it? Here it is.” Wade reluctantly pulled off his mask and tossed it on the floor. He kept his eyes down, steeled (haha) for the worst.

“...Wade. It’s just skin. Yeah, you have scars, I won’t pretend I don’t see them. But it’s still _skin_. Do you know what I’d give to have skin like yours?”

“You don’t want it, trust me. It hurts most of the time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But after all this time, I’d rather hurt than not feel anything.”

“Shut up, shut _up_. This is getting too deep. I thought this fic was gonna be lighthearted and fun. Maybe even a little sexy, if I was _very_ lucky.” 

“You’re the one who said you wanted to, uh, kiss me. You gonna do it or not?”

Wade leaned up and started pressing his lips to Cliff’s steamshovel jaw. Cliff could hear the tiny smack of each butterfly kiss, and the quiet little sighs Wade let out. Cliff brought up his arms, slowly, _carefully_ , around Wade and tried to remember what it had felt like the last time he had held someone like this. Wade groaned and wriggled closer.

After a while, Cliff became aware of Wade panting and pushing his hips rhythmically against his torso as he kissed him. He wanted to ask the question delicately, but, Cliff being Cliff, he heard himself blurt out “hey, are you hard? Are you getting off on this?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Wade immediately began scooting backwards, eyes down, mumbling apologies. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… I...”

“Wait, wait! It’s okay, I just thought, you know, you might be more comfortable on the bed. If that’s. Something you’d want.” 

Wade, visibly blushing even through his heavy scar tissue, couldn’t meet Cliff’s eyes. But he nodded and buried his head against Cliff’s chest. Cliff picked Wade up and carried him bridal-style over to his bed. Well, his “bed.” It was really a big steel platform, reinforced to the point it could withstand his considerable weight. But he still had a human brain that needed regular rest, so he still had to sleep, and he’d rather do it in a bed. He’d even put pillows and sheets and blankets on it, although he couldn’t feel them. Pillows, clothes, model cars. He needed things in his life that reminded him he was still Cliff Steele, not just Robotman. 

Cliff laid Wade down on his bed. On his back like this, his erection was very obvious under the skintight spandex. “Fuck. Wow, you really like this, huh?” Cliff touched Wade’s knee and slowly started sliding his hand up his thigh, telegraphing every movement. “Do you want me to…?”

“No! Wait!”

Cliff snatched his hand away and took a step back. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean… I thought...”

“No, it’s okay, it’s just, I think if you touch my dick right now I’d come in like five seconds, so...”

Oh. Well, _that_ was pretty fucking flattering. “So what do you want me to do? I’m gonna need some guidance on this, I’ve never been with a guy and I haven’t been with anyone since I’ve been… like this.”

“I can’t believe I get to pop your gay robot cherry.”

“Wade.”

“This is such an honor.”

“Come on.”

“I really mean that. Okay, let’s talk sexy logistics. Maybe you don’t have a dick but you definitely have _fingers_ , so I vote you finger me.”

“Oh… I dunno, Wade, have you seen these things? There’s all these exposed nuts--”

“Hah--”

“Stoppit-- and the edges of these plates between the knuckles… I just don’t see how I could do this without hurting you.”

“It’ll be worth it, serious! And it doesn’t matter if you hurt me, I have a healing factor. Everything heals, everything grows back.”

“ _Everything…?_ I think the Chief might want to talk to you when he gets back.”

“Hard pass, Tin Man! I dunno if you saw my first movie, but I’m pretty over being experimented on.”

“Okay, fair enough. But even if you heal, that’s no justification for hurting you in the first place. I’m up for doing this, but it has to be safe.”

“Ooh, safe! Great idea!” Wade whipped out a condom. “We’ll just cover up all your bumps and sharp edges with this.”

“Where did you get that from?”

“You think all these pouches are just a fashion statement? I mean, they _kind_ of are, I have to admit. Ohh, shit, I’m out of lube though, do you have any?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“ _Really_?!”

“Yeah, these robot joints don’t oil themselves.”

“Oh, _that_ kind of lube. You know what? Fuck it, let’s use it.”

“What, seriously? I’m pretty sure that’s not supposed to go in your body.”

“As I mentioned before: healing factor! It literally doesn’t matter what I put in my body—whether it’s a bullet or Taco Bell, it all processes out eventually. Besides, the thought of Cliff Robotman Steele’s personal lubricant all up in my intimates? _Hot_.”

“Okay, okay, we can use it. You’re gonna have to take your suit off, though.”

“I know, but, um… can you take your clothes off, too? Like I know you don’t _have_ to for this, but I’d feel a little less self-conscious if I wasn’t the only one naked.”

Cliff started removing his layers. The jacket was easy, the shirt was okay, the boots and pants were challenging. He didn’t admit it to his friends, but getting dressed every morning took a hell of a lot more effort than they knew. Wade helped him with the ties and buckles without being asked, and Cliff mumbled an embarrassed “thanks.”

Wade’s suit came off easily enough, and Cliff couldn’t help but stare. Sure, Wade had those scars everywhere, but who cared? The man had an amazing body. “Fuck, Wade, you could give Flex Mentallo a run for his money.”

“Stoppit.”

“It’s true.”

“You’re sweet. Get the fuck over here and fuck me, already. We’re like 3,000 words in and _nothing’s_ happened.”

“Alright, alright.” Cliff snagged his lube off the shelf and scooted into bed with Wade so they could start fussing over the condom.

“Are you _sure _you don’t wanna start with just two fingers? Look at these things, it’s kind of a lot.__

____

____

“Yes, that’s the _point_! And if you’d seen my favorite dildo you wouldn’t be asking me that question!” 

Wade eventually won the argument, so they stretched and lubed up the condom over three giant robot fingers. Cliff patted his thighs again. “Come here, Wade. Show me how you like it.” 

Wade straddled Cliff’s thighs and sank down slowly onto his fingers. He let out a moan so loud that for a moment Cliff was worried about Larry overhearing, then decided Larry could worry about himself. Listening to Wade’s obvious pleasure as he fucked himself on Cliff’s fingers was amazing. For a moment, he thought he felt a ghost of arousal, but when he focused on it it was gone. 

“Oh, fuck, Cliff… _Cliff_...” 

“Yeah, Wade. You look incredible, you _sound_ incredible...” 

Wade shuddered and whined. “Can I suck on your fingers? Please, please...” 

“Fuck, do it.” 

Wade groaned and sucked two fingers on Cliff’s free hand halfway down his throat. Cliff worried about choking him, but it quickly became apparent that Wade’s gag reflex was long gone. Wade’s moans sounded more muffled around Cliff’s fingers, but the desperation in them kicked up a notch. 

Cliff stared, transfixed, as Wade drooled and whimpered and swallowed around his fingers. He remembered what it had felt like to get sucked off. He imagined what it might feel like to get sucked off by Wade’s eager, enthusiastic, talented mouth. God, he could have sworn… he knew it wasn’t real, but it almost felt like… almost, almost… 

“Wade, that’s so good, don’t stop, I fuckin’ love that… oh fuck me, you sound so pretty...” 

Wade’s moans hit a frantic pitch. He ground down almost violently on Cliff’s fingers, jerking his hips desperately. Cliff didn’t need to breathe anymore, but he sure as hell felt breathless watching Wade fight it and fight it and _fight it_ until he couldn’t resist it a second longer and started coming all over Cliff’s abdomen. 

“Fuck yeah, Wade, do it just like that, come on me, you look so good, let me hear you...” 

Wade gave a muffled wail, then took his mouth off Cliff’s fingers in favor of burying his face against his neck. Cliff hugged him as tightly as he dared while Wade continued to rock gently on his fingers, moaning and shuddering through the aftershocks. 

When it was over, Wade sighed in satisfaction and delicately lifted himself off of Cliff’s fingers. He quickly disposed of the condom, then rushed back to wind himself around Cliff like a vine and continue planting kisses all over his face. He paused, sat back, and sighed again, this time sounding a little frustrated. 

“Cliff, that was fucking awesome, but did you get anything out of it? Like, _anything_?” 

“Yeah! I really liked watching you come.” 

“No! That’s still not YOU getting something out of it, that’s just ME getting something out of it. Speaking of which, I made a complete mess of you, buddy.” Wade leaned down and started licking his own come off of Cliff’s abdomen. Cliff wanted to tell him not to worry about it, but then he saw Wade was half-hard again already and heard him moaning quietly. Cliff felt like he was starting to get a handle on what got Wade Wilson off. 

“Thank you, Wade. You’re so good at that. Do you like the way the metal feels on your tongue? What does it taste like?” Wade groaned in frustration and jerked his hips once, like he couldn’t stop himself. 

“You’re still dirty-talking me when you got nothing out of it? _Nothing_?!” 

“I wouldn’t say that. When you had your mouth on my fingers, it almost felt like getting hard again. Like you were blowing me for real. I know it was just my imagination, but it was still really nice.” 

“So… are you saying… you got a _phantom limb erection_?! 

“I guess so?” 

“Oh, shit! I have a new purpose in life. Starting right now: Cliff Steele, I am going to find your ghost boner, and I am going to jerk. It. OFF.” 

“I don’t think it works like that. Every time I focus on it, it’s just gone.” 

“So don’t focus. Don’t think. Just let it happen.” 

“I mean, we can try, but I don’t think anything’s gonna happen.” 

“Trust me! I’m pretty much a leading expert in the field of doing weird shit without thinking about it first.” 

Cliff did trust him. He couldn’t help it. “Okay. What do you want me to do?” 

“Get up on your knees… here, just let me...” Wade pressed his back against Cliff’s front. He reached down to tug Cliff’s left hand up to his own right shoulder, and placed Cliff’s right hand on his hip. “There we go. Hold me like that. Fuck, you’re so strong. I want you to listen to me, okay? Don’t think, just listen.” 

“Okay, no thinking. Got it.” 

Wade took a couple of deep breaths to think about what he was going to say to get Cliff worked up, to finger his brainstem or whatever it was he thought he was doing here. Cliff seemed like a pretty straightforward guy, not much different from Wade himself, so maybe just start simple. 

Wade relaxed and leaned his head back as far as he could against Cliff’s shoulder. “Cliff, I need you inside me. Yeah, just like that, nice and slow. Let me feel you. God, you’re so thick, I fucking _love_ that.” 

“Wait, _what_? But I’m not really-- I don’t have--” 

“Clifford, what did I _just_ say.” 

“You said no thinking.” 

“I said _no thinking_! I know you don’t have a dick! I know _you_ know you don’t have a dick! We’re trying to team up to trick your brain into forgetting you don’t have a dick! It’s called suspension of disbelief, _Cliff_ , and our entire genre would fall apart without it!” 

“Okay, okay! Jesus, calm down.” 

“Maybe I’ll calm down once you fuck me into the mattress, big guy.” 

“Is that right.” 

“Mm.” 

“Well, you better strap in, pal. ‘Cuz I’m like the Energizer bunny, batteries and all. I can keep going and going and going all night.” 

Wade giggled. “ _Now_ we’re gettin’ it. Come on, Cliff, you can go deeper than that. I need you deeper. Wanna feel you in the back of my fuckin’ throat.” 

Cliff jerked his hips flush with Wade’s ass. “Yeah? Deep enough for you?” 

“Ooh, keep going… faster, Cliff, please...” 

Wade was moaning like a pornstar, and Cliff felt embarrassed knowing it was mostly an act for his benefit, but damn if it wasn’t… kind of working, honestly. Aside from the occasional not-actually-wet dream, this was the closest he’d felt to orgasm in decades. Don’t think about it, he reminded himself. Just listen. Just feel. 

He peeked over Wade’s shoulder and saw that his cock looked even harder than during their last round. Maybe he _was_ getting something out of this, after all. Cliff heard himself moan Wade’s name without meaning to, heard the mechanical whirring of his hips speed up as he started thrusting faster against Wade. 

“Yes, Cliff! That feels _so_ good, big guy, so nice, please don’t stop, please, please...” 

Cliff could hear himself panting—what the fuck, he didn’t even need to breathe—and— was that a moan? Yes, yes it was. “How are you doing this? God, _how are you doing this?!_ Fuck!” 

Wade chuckled somewhat breathlessly. “Maybe it’s my secondary mutation kicking in. Here, here, move your hand...” He tugged on Cliff’s left hand and moved it down to his other hip, then leaned down on the bed to support himself on his arms. “We’re almost there, Cliff, we’re so fucking close, so I need you to really go for it. Just jackhammer me.” 

Cliff groaned again and held Wade’s hips as tightly as he dared (which, given his poor fine motor control, was not very tight). Wade kept telling him he’d heal so it didn’t matter, but fuck that. Cliff’s own hips kept moving, almost out of his control. “Like that, Wade? Fuck, tell me, tell me, let me hear you...” 

“Harder, Cliff, you _know_ I need it harder! Let me fucking feel it! _Please_ , Cliff, please! I want it, I _want_ it, I’m so close...” 

“Yeah? You gonna come on my cock, you little fox?” 

“Yes, _yes_! _Cliff_!! Come inside me, please, please, I-- oh, _ohh_ \--!” 

Wade’s uncontrolled wailing picked Cliff up bodily, dragged him right to the edge and shoved him over. Waves of desperation, satisfaction, and above all, bright, joyous _pleasure_ were rolling through the body he no longer had, tripping circuits and overriding protocols as Wade shuddered underneath him. 

*** 

“--iff? Cliff? CLIFF! Can you hear me? Dammit! I broke Robotman!” 

“I’m… I’m here, Wade. I’m okay.” 

“Oh, thank Christ. That would have been the most embarrassing Geek Squad call ever.” 

Cliff rearranged himself to lie back on the bed. As he’d hoped, Wade followed him to cuddle and press more kisses to his jaw. 

“Wade, I… I can’t even describe how incredible that was. I never thought I’d experience something like that ever again. So… thank you.” 

“Oh my _god_ , stop it,” giggled Wade, hiding his face against Cliff. “Thank _you_. Also, I totally ruined your sheets, so uh, sorry about that.” 

“Like I give a shit. They’re mostly for show, anyway.” 

Wade sighed and snuggled in. Cliff stroked his back gently and tried to convince himself he could feel it. He couldn’t, really, but maybe if he practiced? Wade had just proven to him that his brain was capable of far more than he’d given it credit for. 

“Ughhhh.” 

“What’s wrong, Wade?” 

“I have to go back soon. I can feel my home universe tugging on me, but I’d rather stay here with you.” 

“How does it work, do you have to go back right away?” 

“No, I think I can hold it back for a little bit. Why?” 

“Well, the paint on those model cars should be dry by now. Wanna race them with me?” 

Wade smiled. “Sure.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if Cliff actually has a bed, but the guy's gotta sleep somewhere, right?


End file.
